


Past Regrets

by PeachEclair



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Assassin's Creed III Spoilers, Character Death, Drunken Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 04:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21470077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachEclair/pseuds/PeachEclair
Summary: Shaun didn't expect to see HIS name in the digital archives. He also didn't expect to break down over it. Maybe he isn't completely fine over Desmond's death.
Relationships: Rebecca Crane & Desmond Miles, Rebecca Crane & Shaun Hastings & Desmond Miles, Shaun Hastings & Desmond Miles
Comments: 2
Kudos: 66





	Past Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of the ‘Desmond’ entry in the digital archives in AC: Syndicate, and I thought that Ubisoft missed out on a beautiful scene here, so I extended it. Enjoy!

It happened while Shaun Hastings was adding to the digital archives for allies of Jacob and Evie Frye. He had just finished up with Mrs Disraeli (What a weird woman she was), when he clicked on to the next entry, Mrs Disraeli’s dog, when he froze.

The universe hated him.

He felt his breathing quicken, and his hands, which were hovering an inch or two over the keyboard, started to tremble.

_ “Ah, so this must be the infamous subject seventeen... Desmond Miles, was it?” _

The dog’s name was Desmond. 

Shaun shut his eyes, and before he even knew what he was doing, he shut down the computer, and turned around, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from inside the shell of an old monitor, (Take that Rebecca!) as he made his way to his bedroom. He entered quickly, slamming the door behind him. He stood for a moment, as the tears burst forward. 

_ “I also provide tactical support for the other Assassins. You know, Desmond, the ones who are out there – actually doing stuff. Risking their lives, little things like that.” _

_ “ I have a gift, Desmond. I have a gift for seeing things. Making connections, like your eagle vision, you know. Only useful.” _

He was such a  _ dick _ .

Sobbing and emotional, he desperately cracked open the bottle of alcohol, and downed a gulp, wincing as the burning liquid made it's way down his throat. He collapsed onto the bed in front of him and was swallowed up by memories tainted with grief, with only the alcohol to drown his sorrows.

  
  


**********

  
  


Rebecca Crane was not a patient person. It took her five minutes before she decided that Shaun had taken too long with the archives. She cast a last glance over the new recruit before heading to Shaun’s desk.

“Shaun! Shaun! Hurry up with those files you big-” Rebecca stopped, mid shout. Shaun was nowhere to be seen. She ran forward. His computer was still warm, so he was on it recently. Perhaps he was in his room? 

As Rebecca began walking to Shaun’s room, she heard crying. Confused, she walked closer towards Shaun’s room, startled when she heard the man sobbing. And what was that smell? 

Was that… whiskey? 

Now very concerned, Rebecca backtracked to her secret stash. It was empty. Her fury towards the theft (Damn it! That was expensive!) was outshone by her thoughts towards her friend.

Cautiously, Rebecca turned around and crept towards the closed door. She knocked twice.

“Shaun? It’s Rebecca. How intoxicated are you?”

The lack of snarky reply set off all alarm bells. Shaun was notoriously prickly, and even if he was practically comatose, he would have still shouted out a half-coherent insult about Rebecca’s drinking habits. He was either dead, or something was really  _ really _ wrong.

Rebecca quietly turned the door handle, entering the darker room. What she saw made her physically stop.

Shaun was sitting on his bed, sobbing his heart out, his head in his hands. The room smelt of whiskey, probably due to the fact that the opened whiskey bottle was a third empty. Rebecca had never seen him so … broken before.

“Shaun?” Rebecca crossed the room and sat down by Shaun, carefully the cautiously balanced whiskey bottle on the floor. Shaun didn’t look up.

“I was  _ such _ an ass. H-he was going through hell, and I insulted him and brushed him aside, ‘cause I was behaving like a child.” The next sentence dissolved into sobs. Rebecca could make out words like ‘Stupid’, ‘Self-sacrificing, ‘Templars’ and ‘Desmond’.

Oh.  _ Oh. _

Rebecca had no idea what set him off, but the reminder that one of their friends was dead, would hit anyone hard. But the fact that Shaun was an ass to them? It must have hit like a snowplough. 

With this new knowledge in mind, Rebecca cautiously approached Shaun and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Hey Shaun, you wanna talk about it?” She asked. They all had learnt the hard way that bottled up feelings resulted in violent outbursts. William Miles hitting his own son being a prime example. Speaking of…

  
  


“Is this about Desmond?” She asks quietly. 

Her only response is a few nods. Now that she is certain, she can narrow it down. 

“Do you feel bad about the way you treated him?”

Again, Rebecca receives a few nods. However, The intoxicated historian soon speaks;

“I thought it would be easier to be distant from him so that when he died, it wouldn't hurt as much. Why does it hurt so bad, Becca? Why did he have to die?”

Rebecca shakes her head slightly. “I don't know, Shaun.” She feels the tears slide down her face as she finally admits to the pain that's been eating them both.

“I don't know why.” 

Those words are drowned out by the sounds of crying, as Rebecca leans into Shaun. 

Both of them are hurting, and as they sit beside each other, crying and drinking the whisky, before sharing memories in the silence that follows, they realise that they're both healing.


End file.
